I Don't Even Have Hockey Skates
by Bluehaven4220
Summary: For Samantha "Sammie" Kowalski- Fraser, she knows that family is often born of blood, but it doesn't depend on blood. When she comes to her Dad and Ray with devastating news and an impossible decision looming over her head, she realizes just how important family can be.


**Title: I Don't Even Have Hockey Skates**

 **Author: Bluehaven4220**

 **Summary: For Samantha "Sammie" Kowalski- Fraser, she knows that family is often born of blood, but it doesn't depend on blood. When she comes to her Dad and Ray with devastating news and an impossible decision looming over her head, she realizes just how important family can be.**

 **A/N: Hello everyone! This is my first Due South fan fiction. I've fallen in love with the series and the characters, and I found myself writing this because I couldn't get the story out of my head. Please enjoy, and feel free to leave a review, the door is always open.**

 **ooOoo**

For as long as I can remember, I've always had my Dad and Ray. I've had my mum too, but most of the time I preferred to live with Dad and Ray. They were best friends with my Mum, Susan, and when Mum said she wanted to have a baby, but needed their help, they agreed. And that's all I've ever known. Of course, most people will ask how I ended up with two dads and a mum, and that's the story I tell. There was no big fight, no divorce; they were just best friends who decided to help each other out. We don't even know which one of them is my biological father, but that doesn't matter; they're both mine, and I belong to both of them, no matter what.

Our motto has always been that family is often born of blood, but it doesn't depend on blood. Family can be your best friends, and your best friends can be your family. Someone who is not my Dad or Ray once said that, but I'm not sure who it was. As I said, we simply adopted it for our own use. And it comes in handy, living just outside Fort Smith, in the Northwest Territories, population "can count on 2 hands", as Ray says.

Dad and Ray (and Mum, whenever I see her) have always been my biggest supporters, which is why it hurt me so much to tell them my news. I hadn't been dumb enough to do anything in either of their houses, but I'm absolutely certain they wouldn't be pleased to hear what happened in the back of my Buick.

When I started to feel unwell, I drove to the hospital after I'd finished at school, spoke with the doctor, considered my options. I mulled it over, writing out so many purposefully vague pros and cons lists that it made my head spin. And finally, I knew I had to work up the courage to tell them.

The time I chose was as perfect as I could have hoped for. I chose a week where Dad was away on a training exercise and patrol, and I had asked Ray to pick me up from school that Friday afternoon (I had set out very early and walked that morning instead of driving to give myself a valid excuse to call, never mind that it had snowed pretty heavily the night before). I had learned from a very young age that, if I needed to tell Dad or Ray anything important, it was best to do so while we were out for a drive.

We drove in silence until I gulped and cleared my throat.

"You okay there, Peanut?" he glanced at me as we turned the corner down the road toward the cabin he and Dad had built together and had raised me in.

"Yeah, um…" I drew in a big breath and steadied my nerves, wiping my sweaty hands on my pants. "Actually, Daddy, I need to tell you something."

Ray's eyes bulged slightly. "Well _something_ must be up, kiddo, you haven't called me Daddy since you were five."

"I know, I…" I stumbled, pulling at the sleeves of my sweater.

"Do I need to stop driving for this?"

"No, please keep driving," I answered a little too quickly, hoping to buy myself a little more time to gather my thoughts, figure out how to tell him.

It wasn't until we reached the house, and I saw that Dad's sled was back in its proper place that I finally felt ready. When Ray stopped the truck and turned the engine off, he waited with both hands on the steering wheel in silence.

And then I gathered up all my courage.

"Daddy I'm pregnant," I blurted.

Ray's eyes bulged and a vein I didn't know he had in his forehead throbbed.

"Ah Jesus Christ on a cracker," Ray leaned forward and rested his forehead on the steering wheel. "Sammie, get out of the truck. Go in the house. Right now."

"Why?"

"Because if you don't, I may kill you."

I didn't need telling twice. I jumped out of the truck and booked it into the house, reaching my bedroom and closing the door before I even dared to breathe.

Dad must have seen me, and put two and two together. I heard the door shut as I wrapped myself in my blanket and pulled the hood of my sweater over my head.

 **ooOoo**

Ray heard Ben get into the truck before he actually say him. He stayed with his forehead on the steering wheel, willing his frazzled brain to form a coherent sentence.

"Did she tell you?" he managed as Ben reached out and put a hand on Ray's shoulder.

"Did she tell me what?"

"I'm guessing not then," he said to the steering wheel, then he sat up and sighed heavily, staring straight ahead. "She's pregnant, Ben. Our baby girl's pregnant…."

Ben rolled his bottom lip over his teeth and sighed audibly. "I suspected as much."

Ray turned to stare at his partner of eighteen years, looking murderous.

"You knew?"

"No, I suspected, which are two very different things," Ben clarified. "But she doesn't know that I suspected it."

"You've been out on patrol for the past two weeks! How could you possibly have suspected?"

"Ray, I estimate that she's about twelve weeks gone. She's slightly fuller around the middle, she's sleeping more, and I haven't seen any sanitary wrappers in the garbage for at least that long."

"Then how did I not see it?" Ray gripped the steering wheel. "How could this have happened? You and me and Susan, we all taught her better than that."

"Well we're both familiar with the mechanics of heterosexual sex, Ray, I should think it's fairly self explanatory."

"You do realize that was rhetorical," Ray was grinding his teeth. "God, Ben, how could she have been so stupid? If she was having sex, as much as I hate thinking about it, why wouldn't she have at least used a condom?"

"We don't know that she didn't," Ben squeezed Ray's thigh.

"Come on Ben, she's pregnant. I'd say that's proof right there."

"No contraceptive is 100% effective, Ray. Whatever she used could have broken."

"Or have been non existent."

Ben sighed. "This isn't just her fault, you know."

"Yeah I know," Ray ran his hands over his face in frustration, then slammed one down on the wheel repeatedly. "Whoever he was, I'm gonna kick him in the dick if I ever find him."

Ben smiled grimly. As angry as they were at the entire situation, they still had a terrified sixteen- year- old in the house, waiting for their decision.

"What do we do?" Ray asked. "We can't force her to make a decision."

"She'll have to, even if it's one we don't agree with," Ben answered. "All we can do is support her in whatever she decides."

"We're too young to be Grandpas."

"And she's too young to be a mother," Ben agreed. "Nevertheless, if that is what she wants to do, then we should support her as best we can."

Ray forced himself to breathe. "I hate this, Ben."

"I know," Ben squeezed Ray's hand. "But we'll help her get through it. As a family."

And still the elephant that was sitting on his chest would not shift.

"Alright. Let's go in."

 **ooOoo**

I heard the front door open as I sat on the couch, clutching a throw pillow and my knees tucked up. The box of tissues was significantly less full, my glass of water sat neglected on the coffee table, and my bag was packed. I couldn't move for fear, listening to the two of them take off their outside clothes and come to sit in the chairs just opposite the couch.

No one said anything for quite a while. Staring at each other, the silence was only interrupted by me blowing my nose and occasionally blubbing. God, I must have looked pathetic.

Finally, I couldn't stand looking at them. The two men who loved me so fiercely, and I'd just thrown it all away. I'd let them down, and it broke my heart to see their faces.

I untangled myself from the cushions and went to grab my bag, a pre-emptive strike before I broke down completely.

I hadn't even gotten off the couch before Dad was right in front of me, taking the bag from me and lightly squeezing my arm. He didn't even say a word; he just set the bag back on the floor and then sat back down in his own chair.

You didn't need to be a genius to understand what he meant.

Thank God it was Ray who spoke first.

"So, uh, what do you want to do, Peanut?"

All these years and he still calls me Peanut. And suddenly I don't feel like I deserve it.

For the second time in less than 2 hours I gathered up all my courage and said the only thing I could say.

"I'm going to be a mom," I answered, my voice shaking.

I saw Dad nod, and walk over the couch. He pulled me off the cushions and into his arms, wrapping me in an extremely tight hug.

"Well then, we better get started," he kissed my cheek.

I cried, Ray cried, and Dad held us both. I had never seen him cry, but I felt his heart break just a tiny bit. We cried and hugged each other for a very long time, until Dad suggested we should all get to bed. After all, he always reasoned, things would look better in the morning.

Just as we all went to get up, I couldn't let go of their hands.

"This is going to sound nuts, but… could I sleep with you tonight?"

I say it sounds crazy because I hadn't asked to do that since I was five. Tonight, however, I didn't think I could sleep alone. I couldn't explain why. I needed Dad and I needed Ray and I needed them to cuddle me close all night.

"Sure Sammie," Dad answered. "Whatever you need."

We didn't even bother to change out of long johns and sweaters. We climbed into their bed (Dad always on the left toward the wall, Ray on the right facing the window), squished together, and fell asleep, all three of us with a hand on my tiny, almost unnoticeable bump.

 **ooOoo**

Waking up the next morning soon reminded me why all three of us sleeping in the same bed was no longer feasible. Trying to get out to go to the bathroom without bumping into either of them was impossible, but it didn't matter, as Dad was usually up with the sun.

I went to the bathroom, and emerged to find Dad pouring orange juice and brewing coffee. He didn't drink coffee, but Ray did, and there was also another slightly sweet smell.

"Did you get me raspberry leaf tea?" I asked, going straight toward the kitchen.

"Yes indeed, I once read that raspberry leaf can help with morning sickness and boost your immune system," he set the tea down in front of me and slid into the chair beside me.

"How are you feeling this morning, honey?"

"Well I woke up this morning squished between you and Ray and I was still pregnant," I shrugged, trying not to cry. "Although it probably would have been better if you'd yelled at me."

"What would that have accomplished?"

"I don't know, but maybe you'd feel less like killing me."

"That's just silly, Samantha," Dad gave me a smile. "While it's not ideal, I'm glad there's a decision, and we can move forward."

I sipped my tea, starting at him over my mug. Dad had used my full name. He didn't do that unless he genuinely meant what he said.

"I'm sorry to have to ask this, Sammie, but have you spoken to the baby's father?"

I nodded. "As soon as I went to the doctor. He told me he didn't want anything to do with me or the baby. He said he'd sign anything I wanted him to sign, but he doesn't want to see me or the baby again."

"Is he from Fort Smith?"

"No," I answered. "He was only here for a year and living with his grandparents. He's long gone by now. I doubt that even with your magical Mountie powers, you'd be able to find him and convince him otherwise."

He snorted.

"I know you're an expert tracker and you've found a lot of people, but I'm asking you not to go looking for him. Please. He was an asshole."

Dad waited expectantly, as though he was waiting to tell me how every sixteen-year-old boy only thought with one head, and it wasn't the one attached to their shoulders, but that sounded like something Ray might say, and not Dad.

"And I made a mistake. I thought I loved him," I pushed my tea mug to the side and reached for Dad's hand. "I thought he loved me…"

Dad squeezed my hand, urging me to continue.

"The condom broke," I admitted, answering the question I knew was hanging in the air.

He nodded. "Well, as I said to Ray, no contraceptive is 100% effective."

"I'm so sorry Dad," I whispered.

"I know, Sammie," he answered. "But, it is what it is. And the best thing Ray and your mother and I can do is help you prepare. Speaking of which, have you told her?"

I shook my head. "I didn't need to, she guessed. And I begged her not to tell you. I wanted to do that."

"Ah," Dad nodded. "You know, you didn't have to pack a bag, honey. Ray and I wouldn't throw you out."

"I was scared."

"Understand," Dad acknowledged it, as though he knew how much it was costing me to tell them the truth.

"And I didn't know how you'd react. You'd always taught me better than to go and make such a stupid decision. And yet I still thought it would be better to tell Ray first. If I had to break anyone's heart, it would have to be Ray's."

"Why's that?"

"Because you're better at picking up the pieces and sticking them back together," I reasoned.

I was so caught up in conversation that I didn't notice Ray walking into the kitchen, pour himself coffee, and then sit down at the table.

"You know, I did say I'd kick the guy in the dick if I ever found out who he was."

"Good luck, he's long gone, and good riddance."

"Hm…" Ray mumbled. "So what's the plan then? Doctor's appointments? Clothes? Home school?"

"Let's get breakfast out of the way before tackling issues such as those," Dad suggested, going back into the kitchen and opening the fridge. "Sammie, how do you feel about eggs and toast?"

"Actually, Dad, I really really want trout."

"Trout?" Ray choked.

"Yeah, and ice cream."

"Ugh, Ben, she inherited your taste buds."

"I think those are pregnancy hormones, Ray," Dad chuckled as he reached into the fridge and pulled out the eggs and bread, setting them on the counter. "While I do like trout, I have never particularly enjoyed ice cream."

"I know, I was making a joke," Ray gave him a side smile as he dropped a few M&M's into his coffee.

"As it is, Sammie, we're fresh out of trout, and there's no ice cream."

"Oh well, could I have toast please?"

"Toast I can manage," Dad smirked, coming back to the table and kissing my hair. He turned and kissed Ray good morning. "M&M's in your coffee again?"

"Yeah well, it seemed to make sense," Ray kissed Dad again and pat his forearm in greeting. "I figured since the world's gone… what do you call it… tipsy toppy?"

"Topsy-turvy," Dad supplied.

"Yeah that," Ray took a long look at me while I sipped at my tea again. "Hey, uh, Peanut, you know I don't hate you, right?"

"Kinda feels like you're ashamed of me."

"Never," Ray insisted. "Look, as much as I hate to think of you having sex, you said the condom broke, right?"

"Yeah," I nodded, having just had this conversation with Dad, and now knowing that Ray had probably heard the whole thing. "I swear that's the truth." As bad as telling them about the baby was, if it _had_ been anything other than a broken condom, Ray would probably kill the guy, and God help anyone who got in his way.

"Ah well, shit happens," Ray took another slug of coffee. "But God help me if you're lying to me, Sammie. You're absolutely sure?"

"I'm sure it wasn't, Daddy. Why would I lie about that?" I asked. "You were Chicago PD and Dad's RCMP. I'd have to be extraordinarily stupid to lie to you about this. I'm sure you can smell lies like bloodhounds."

"Yeah you would," Ray agreed. "Stupid like jumping into bed with the first boy who smiled at you."

"Ray," Dad warned.

"Okay, yes, we know. I'm a stupid moron with an ugly face and a big butt for being flattered enough to let a boy between my legs. Christ Almighty!" I was beginning to lose my nerve, and my temper.

"Hey, there is nothing big about your butt and you are an extremely pretty young lady," Ray pointed at me, emphasizing his point. "And don't call yourself a moron."

"Well then, I suppose…" I suddenly couldn't form words. "I just… I didn't want to disappoint you."

Calming down, Ray put his hands on the coffee table, palm up in supplication. "Look, Peanut, I _am_ disappointed," he admitted. "But mostly I'm just sad. Sad for you and angry at the dicksmack who got you into this mess."

"Haven't we already established that it's not just his fault?"

"Yes we have," Dad brought toast to the table along with a plate of eggs and the juice jug. "So, if everyone is satisfied with Samantha's answer to that particular line of questioning, we should move on."

"Thank you, Dad," I reached to take a piece of toast and bit down on the dry offering, the little bit of nausea I'd been feeling creep up on me settle down for the time being. "It's close to the end of the year, so I might not need home schooling, at least not for very long." I got up and went to the kitchen, pouring myself a glass of water. "Anyway, by now I'd say I'm about…"

"Twelve weeks along?" Dad offered.

I was so shocked I dropped my glass into the sink.

"You knew?"

"No, I suspected," Dad corrected me, not moving from the table. "I figured you would tell us when you were ready."

"Huh," I muttered, grabbing a dishtowel and wiping up some of the water that had splashed. "I guess I was all worried for nothing."

"You were right though," Ray interjected.

"Right about what?"

"It was better to break my heart, Peanut," he answered. "Dad is very good at picking up the pieces."

I saw him squeeze Dad's hand under the table.

"Uh huh," I suddenly felt ill, as though the toast had done the work for me. "Excuse me."

I only just made it to the bathroom and slammed the door shut before bending over the toilet and bringing everything up. As I said before, I hadn't really been sick, so I think this was more due to relief than anything else. Suddenly exhausted, I slumped over the toilet and moaned in response to the knock on the door.

I felt Dad's presence before I heard him. He got on his knees behind me and gathered my hair back out of my face.

"Better?" he reached around my back and flushed.

"Ugh…" I moaned, falling backward against his chest.

We stayed that way for quite a while on the bathroom floor for quite a while, my head resting by his shoulder as he stroked my hair, whispering the song "Land of the Silver Birch" in my ear.

When I was finally ready to move, my legs wouldn't work. Not perturbed by this, Dad simply stood up first, then bent and picked me up himself, carrying me back to the couch.

As Dad found a pillow for my head and tucked the blanket in around me, Ray was waiting with a glass of water and a sick tray, like the ones you get in the hospital when you've had surgery and you're just waking up from the anesthetic.

"Rinse your mouth out, Peanut," he smiled at me, waiting until I had swished the water and spat it back into the sick tray.

"Let me take that, Ray," I offered.

"No, Peanut, I've got it," he told me, reaching out and smoothing my hair with his free hand. "Your diapers were much worse than that, and I handled those just fine."

I chuckled, finally settled on the couch and very, very thankful for both Dad and Ray.

 **ooOoo**

 **January 2nd**

After seven months of my body swelling and changing, and hiding under baggy sweaters and switching from high school to home school (Dad and Ray had found a private tutor who came to the cabin every day. Frankly, I like it much better. She's a nice lady, and this way I'm not lonely while Dad's out on patrol and Ray is busy around the property), I wasn't surprised that it would happen right after Christmas and New Year's.

While I had heard all the myths about pregnancy and how my body would change as the baby grew, especially since I was so young, I was very lucky. I only gained about 10 pounds, and, while that was slightly unusual, the doctor was satisfied with the baby's development. He understood that, since I was due in January, and we lived much further out from town, it might be difficult to go to the hospital. I guess I should be happy that he had listened to me when I said that, all things being normal, I wanted a home birth.

It wasn't as though I was going to be alone if that was what I wanted, I reasoned. Dad had delivered babies before, and could be there for back up if the midwife couldn't make it out to the cabin.

Well, just my luck. It had snowed very heavily over Christmas and into the New Year, and there was no way anyone would be driving out to the cabin, even with four wheel drive on their trucks. Even Lucy, the retired sled dog, had moved into my bedroom and under my old crib, which Dad and Ray had rebuilt for my baby. I guess she sensed that there was a new, vulnerable member of the pack on its way soon.

I had woken suddenly with pain similar to period cramp, but much more painful. I had expected _some_ pain and cramping, sure, but this was unlike anything I had ever felt before. It was a persistent pain in my back and lower abdomen. Truth be told, it felt like I had to go to the bathroom.

So that's what I did. I got out of bed, went across the living room to the bathroom, and sat on the toilet in the dark. I kept the door open slightly, just in case. And if I'm honest, it was quite comfortable for the moment.

I sat in the dark and waited, when I saw a long, pointed snout put its way through the crack in the door. Lucy must have heard me when I woke up and followed me. With a soft whimper, she came over to me and sat at my feet, pulling at the pajama bottoms pooling at my feet.

"Hi Lucy," I bent down and scratched her behind the ears in reassurance before kicking off my pajama bottoms. "It's okay. I think the baby's coming soon."

Of course, right after I said that, there was a sickly sounding plop into the toilet.

"Hmm…" With great difficulty, I hoisted myself up off the toilet and turned on the light. Once I was finally able to stand up again, I peeked.

There was a slight tinge of red in the water.

Oh, I knew what this was. The books I'd read all referred to it as bloody show, but the more common terminology was mucus plug. If I was right, my water breaking wouldn't be far behind. Okay, no need to panic.

"Lucy," I whispered. "Lucy, go wake up Dad."

She cocked her head at me.

"Go wake up Dad," I repeated. "Go. Go go, hurry up."

Finally, she seemed to understand. Off she went, and I set to trying to grab old towels and sheets and go back into the living room.

It all sounded perfect in theory, but I had barely made it to the sink, never mind the linen cupboard before Dad was there leaning on the doorframe.

"Sammie?"

"I lost my mucus plug," I managed, deciding it was probably best not to move for the time being. The fact that I was naked from the waist down was still slightly unnerving.

He waited until I grit my teeth and bit back a yelp. "Contraction…" I reached out for his hand, all pride gone.

He reached forward and helped me out of the bathroom, walking me back toward the living room with my arm over his shoulder.

"Oh, Dad, this hurts," I whimpered as we walked. Anyone who walked in on us would think something terrible was happening.

"I know, honey," he continued walking with me. "It'll be alright. It's just your body preparing you."

"You've delivered babies before, right? You told the doctor you had. And the midwife won't be able to get here, there's too much snow."

"Yes I have, Sammie," he answered as we circled the room again. "But I daresay this is probably the most important one I'll ever do."

"Where's Ray, Dad? I want Ray here too." I quickly changed the subject, because if he lost his composure, I would.

"I'm here, Peanut," he appeared in the living room and switched places with Dad. "We're not going anywhere."

"That's good," I choked back. "Um… I love you, Ray."

"I love you too, Peanut." We circled around the room a few more times in silence as Dad set down more sheets and towels and prepped his medical kit.

"Ray, I want you to brace my back…" I begged him as we stopped moving for another contraction. "Dad, can I sit on the floor now?"

"Hold on, honey," Dad wrapped my arm around his shoulder as Ray sat down on the towels and sheets against the couch. Once Ray had settled himself in, I managed to get down to the floor and braced myself against Ray's chest, grabbing onto his hands as the most painful contraction I'd had yet caught me by surprise.

"Shit!" I screamed as Dad checked his medical kit. "Ow, ow, ow!"

"Alright, Sammie, it's okay…" Dad soothed. I couldn't see Ray, but he wasn't saying anything. I could feel his hands strong under mine, the effort of supporting me only a slight strain. "Once this one is done, I need to check you."

I must have managed to nod, because soon I felt gloved fingers checking me, and from Dad's expression, I was going to be in pain for quite a bit longer.

"Oh…" I tried to stop myself from crying. "Why didn't anyone tell me it would hurt this much?"

"You're not ready to push yet," Dad answered.

I winced.

"Then just we just stay down here?" I stretched my legs out. Being able to lean on Ray was a lifesaver, I'll tell you that much.

"You gonna let me up?"

"Uh uh," I stammered. "You're exactly where I need you right now," I insisted. "But, could you put your hand on my back?"

He did so.

"No, further down," I told him, leaning forward slightly. "Down by the bottom of my spine."

He did, I felt him exerting gentle pressure.

"Much better," I managed, dropping my chin to my chest. I closed my eyes as Dad went out of the room , possibly to check he had everything he needed in case something went wrong.

Determined not to panic, I started humming, and wouldn't you know it, it was one of the first songs Ray had taught me to sing.

"American Woman, Peanut?" I heard Ray chuckle behind me as he continued to press on my back.

"Hmm… shut up Daddy…" I grit my teeth as another contraction went through me. "American Woman… duh duh duh duh duh duh… American Woman…"

He chuckled again. From that, I knew neither of them were taking whatever I might say to them personally.

"Dad?" I called.

"Yes, Sammie?" he answered from the kitchen. From the sounds of it, he was taking the kettle off the boil.

"How far dilated was I when you last checked?"

"Close to ten, but not quite," I heard him come back into the room as another contraction hit me. "How are you feeling now?"

"Please hit me in the head with a hammer," I begged him as I bumped the back of my head against Ray's chest. "Then I wouldn't have to feel this. Ow!" I gripped Ray's forearms, hoping that some of the pain I was feeling would disappear if I willed it hard enough. "Damn it, why did I agree to do this?"

"Because you love your baby, Sammie," Ray told me. He only called me Sammie if he really meant what he was saying and he wanted me to listen. "You want to raise your child and the only way that's going to happen is if you go through this pain and push them out."

I heard him, but it was almost as though it was through a closed door with the shower running. I opened my eyes and stared at Dad, who was on his knees in front of me.

Once the contraction subsided, I released Ray's forearms and brought my hands to my knees. I could feel myself sweating and could hear myself breathing hard.

"Sammie," he put his hands over mine and squeezed. "Sammie, listen to me. The moment you feel like you can't take anymore, that's when it'll be time to push," he briefly looked over my head, making sure that Ray heard him as well. "We're going to get you through this. Ray and me both. Okay?"

I nodded. "I love you Dad."

"I love you too, honey. Can I check you again?"

I nodded once more.

He did, and that's when I felt it.

"I need to push!"

Ray straightened his back and squeezed the outside of my legs with his feet. Suddenly very secure, I huffed, dropped my chin to my chest, and pushed as hard as I could.

"Good girl, Sammie. Seven, eight, nine, ten…" I heard Ray whisper as he kept the pressure against my legs, pushing with me, as though he were sharing my burden.

"Rest for a minute, Samantha," Dad told me. "Your body will do the work. Don't fight it."

This process repeated itself a few more times before I felt a burning sensation.

"You're crowning, Samantha. I can see the head. Not much hair. Push again…"

I did, gripping Ray's hands and, feeling like this would be the last thing I ever did, willed my baby forward.

"Look down, Sammie, look who's almost here…"

I looked over my knees. "Oh, it's a head." I chuckled.

"Yeah, it's a head. Give me two more big pushes like that and the shoulders should be out."

And I did, on the second one, my head thumped against Ray's chest.

"Shoulders are out, honey. One more push. Give me one more push."

I heard Ray grunt with the effort at the same time I did, and, finally, my baby slid into Dad's hands like a greased pig, screeching and turning pink.

It was Dad's turn to chuckle as he laid my baby girl on my chest (for I could see she was a girl), and covered her with a clean towel.

"Oh hello…" I was crying now, and I could hear Ray stifling tears behind me. "Hello little lady. Look at you…" I bent down and kissed her goopy, soft tuft of hair.

"Great job, Peanut. That's greatness, absolute greatness," I felt him kiss my temple, and then reach around to help me secure the towel around this new life now in my hands. "I'm so proud of you."

Dad was smiling as he cleaned everything up, cutting the umbilical cord and making sure we were all okay.

"Hey," I heard Ray summon Dad to him. Sandwiched between my back and the couch, he couldn't do much until Dad bent down, all assorted midwifery paraphernalia set aside. "I love you," he kissed him. "I'm so proud of you, Benton."

"And I you, Ray," he answered, smiling before they kissed again, this time as an accomplishment.

"Dad, Ray," I managed, my voice sounding unnaturally gravelly. "Thank you so much, both of you," I took the edge of the towel and wiped my baby girl's face, kissing her soft cheek, the tears burning my eyes. "Did I make her? Is she really mine?"

"Yes she is, Sammie, this little lady is yours," Dad told me as he finished cleaning up. Ray was still behind me, not daring to move.

Despite being absolutely exhausted, all I wanted to do was stare at the beautiful little girl I had in my arms.

"What time is it?" I asked.

"Eight fifteen AM, January second," Dad called from the kitchen.

"So that was, what? What time did Lucy wake you up?"

"Three-o-seven."

"Five hours, eight minutes? That's all?" I closed my eyes and sighed. "It felt a lot longer."

"Speaking of timing, we best call your midwife, Samantha. She should be informed that the baby has safely arrived."

"Lauren."

"Pardon?"

"The baby's name," I confirmed. "I'd been debating between Lauren and Elizabeth for girl's names, and now that I see her, she looks like a Lauren."

I say Dad smile. "Well then, now that Lauren is here, we should get you up and into bed. It won't do to have you on the floor all day. Ray, how are you?"

"Oh I'm great, Ben. My legs are cramped and my ass is numb, but other than that, greatness."

"Come on," Dad bent down and took Lauren from me. The freedom allowed me to lean forward, and give Ray a way out. Once he was standing and had walked around, he gave me a hand and helped me up.

"Great job, Peanut," he repeated as he helped me to my bedroom, where I found Lucy already lying under the crib. Very slowly, he helped me sit down on the bed and swung my legs up. "You rest up, Dad and I will call whomever we need to and finish cleaning up."

"Bring Lauren in here, please?" I mumbled, my eyes closing. It was suddenly very difficult to keep my eyes open.

"Dad's right behind me," Ray answered as Dad rounded the corner with my beautiful baby girl swaddled in a soft blanket and sporting a knit cap Mum had made for her a few months before. "See? There they are."

"I see Lucy has come to meet the new member of the pack," Dad observed as he gently laid my daughter in my arms. "Now…" he spoke directly to Lucy, just as I remembered him doing when I was little and Diefenbaker was still alive. "I need you to watch both Samantha and Lauren, and alert us if there are any problems."

Lucy huffed in understanding, almost as though she knew barking would be too loud.

"Good girl."

As Lucy settled right next to us, Dad and Ray went back out to the living room, leaving me alone with my baby girl for the first time.

Suddenly, it was too much. As happy as I was to have her, looking at her sweet, innocent face. I realized that everything I did for the rest of my life would affect my daughter.

 _My daughter._ God it felt strange to think of that. I was old enough to still be considered her sister, never mind her mother.

And then I felt the tears coming. Staring at my daughter's face, knowing that I was responsible for a tiny human who would depend on me for everything, I also realized just how ill-equipped I was.

I choked out a sob, cradling Lauren closer to me.

They must have heard me, because within seconds, Dad was cradling Lauren and taking her to sit in the rocking chair by my bed, and Ray had pulled me into his arms and was cuddling me.

"I don't know what I'm doing!" I sobbed into Ray's chest. "I can't be a mom! I can barely remember to make the bed some days! What business do I have being her mother?"

I felt Ray rocking me, although I'm sure I heard him sniffling a couple of times, determined not to cry.

"You're her mother, Peanut, for better or worse. You made a difficult choice, and there's not one person here that would fault you for it," I snuck a peak to see Dad crooning to Lauren, no doubt an Inuit lullaby from long ago. " You've already had a very long day of it, and you're new at this. It's okay to not have everything figured out on the first day."

I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand.

"I'm so scared," I sobbed. "Scared I'm going to fail her. Scared I won't be able to take care of her. Scared she's going to hate me when I can't help her with her homework…. I'm scared I'll screw her up so badly she'll hate me for ever having kept her."

"We'll worry about homework when she's in school," Ray soothed, kissing my hair. "And Dad and I won't leave you alone in this, not if you don't want to be alone."

"Ray is absolutely right, Sammie," Dad got up and brought my baby girl back to me, waiting until I had calmed down enough to hold her again. "I was just explaining to her that she'll have to be patient with you, as you learn how to be her mother, just as Ray and I had to learn to be your Dads."

"I love you, so much," I told them both, bouncing my daughter slightly as she fussed. "I just realized we need to fill out her birth certificate," I told them, hoping a change of subject would help me calm down. "Dad, you have the paperwork, don't you?"

"I took the liberty of obtaining a copy from the town hall, in case we did not have access to the midwife. She'll be here shortly, actually."

"Oh good, that's good," I answered. "If I give you the information, will you please fill out the certificate?"

"Of course I will," he answered, going back out to his desk by the bedroom and retrieving the paper.

And fifteen minutes later, Miss Lauren Natalie Kowalski-Fraser, born January 2nd, had been checked over by the midwife, pronounced healthy, birth certificate signed and dated, and promptly fell asleep.

I wasn't far behind her.

 **ooOoo**

 **2.5 years later**

 **June 15th**

I came in from the barn to find my daughter, now two and a half, sitting at the dining room table with Ray. Crayons abound, and a long forgotten "dinosaur" sandwich on a plate near Ray's elbow. And when I say "dinosaur", it's just a butter and jam sandwich cut into shapes with a cookie cutter. She won't eat her sandwiches any other way right now. She'll eat any sandwich you put in front of her, so long as it's been "dinosaured".

"Mommy, I show you!" she greeted me.

"You show me what?"

"I show you, Mommy, I show you!" she repeated, waving a crayon in her pudgy hand at me.

"Okay, sweetie, okay, let Mommy take her boots off," I answered as I put them on the organizer near the front door and took a seat at the kitchen table next to Ray. "Now, what do you want to show me?"

"Dis, Mommy!" she handed a piece of paper to Ray. "Papa, see? See?"

"Yes I do see," he smiled at her. "Best picture I've ever seen, Bubbles. It's greatness."

Lauren gave us both a huge, toothy grin. "Silly Papa. I not Bubbles, I Lauren!" she corrected him. "Look, Mommy, look!"

I couldn't resist that smile. God, she was as fair as I was dark. Her blond curls could only have come from my mom's side of the family, or perhaps Ray, as both Dad and I were dark haired, and so was her sperm donor. Looking at the piece of paper Ray handed to me, I saw scribbles and lines, but also squiggles that looked like faces.

"Oh, I see…" I nodded. "I see a mouth, and two eyes, and a nose… Lauren, who's this?"

"Is Papa!"

"Oh it's Papa," I nodded. "Papa, did you tell her to draw you with spiky hair?"

"I'd never do that, Mommy," he answered, winking.

I laughed. We always called each other by formal title when Lauren was around. Of course I was Mommy, Dad was Grandpa, and Ray was Papa. We figured that this would cause less confusion for her as she grew up. After all, we were by no means a conventional family, but after so long, no one seemed to care anymore. We had all settled into our new roles quite nicely, even if I did need their help in raising her. I hadn't heard hide nor hair from her father, (although as I said earlier I preferred to think of him as a sperm donor), and that was better for all concerned. Lauren would have me, and her grandfathers, and her grandmother, and she'd be just fine.

"No Mommy, from dis picture!" she insisted, pointing to an old photograph she had on the table next to her. It was from my second birthday, just before Ray had stopped spiking it and started slicking it back. Mum must have taken said photograph, my hands were over my mouth in happiness, with Dad and Ray on either side of my high chair, smiling at the camera.

"Oh… well that's a nice picture. I think Papa looks very handsome there."

"Thank you darling," he smiled at me, leaning forward to kiss my cheek.

Just as he did so, the front door opened, and Lauren jumped off her chair.

"Grandpa!" she bolted for the front door and threw herself into Dad's arms.

"Hello Miss Lauren," I heard Dad greet her, settling her on his hip. "Have you been behaving for your Mommy? And your Papa?"

"Es!" she insisted, wrapped her arms around his neck and giving him a loud, wet kiss. "I show you, Grandpa!"

"What do you want to show me?"

"Come see, come see!" she insisted, rocking back and forth on his hip to get her point across. I heard them trading giggles and funny faces back and forth until they reached the kitchen, where Ray promptly got up and kissed Dad deeply. It had been over a month since he'd been home, it was no wonder they'd missed each other so much.

"Look, Grandpa!" she pointed to the same picture she'd shown me now sitting on the table.

"Oh my," he looked awestruck. "Well, I see Mommy, and Papa, and…" he studied the picture a little more closely. "Is that me? In my red Sarge?"

"Es Grandpa," Lauren answered, kissing his cheek again. "Ina oo-nee-form."

"In my uniform," he confirmed, impressed that she had been working on her vocabulary. "And that's Mommy right next to us, but where are you?"

"Here, Grandpa," she pointed to a small stick figure standing between Ray and another stick figure with a bubble body that was meant to represent Lucy. "Is my family."

"We're your family, that's right," I smiled at my clever little girl. "Come to Mommy?"

She reached out her hands toward me, and Dad was able to transfer her to me without incident. "Now, does this go on the fridge?"

"Es Mommy," she answered. "Ona fwidge."

I picked up the drawing and the two of us went to the fridge, securing the drawing with a magnet. Once it was there, all four of us took another chance to admire it.

And it was then I realized something.

Yes, my little family consisting of Dad and Ray and my Mum, and now Lauren was unconventional. Yes, Dad still traveled on patrol by dog sled. Yes, Ray had settled his affairs in Chicago and had come north because he was (and still is, over twenty years later,) in love with a Mountie. Yes, I was a young mom, and my daughter was well on her way to being my mini-me, sass mouth and all. Yes, I still need my dads to help me raise her, and, without a second thought, they'd agreed, even when they could have rejected us.

All in all, I wouldn't trade my crazy, unconventional, upside down family for anything. They're not perfect, but they are definitely everything I ever wanted, and everything I need.


End file.
